Story of Three
by Baconlicious
Summary: When triplets are born during a hard time for America, they learn to cope with being... different.
1. Chapter 1

The pregnancy itself was normal enough. Mary Cisse served her term, although questions were raised at the size of her child by the time labor rolled around.

"He'll just be strong and helpful around the farm," Mary had said when asked. "Like Nettie's boy." (it was always assumed the larger ones were boys).

However, by the last few weeks, Mary was bedridden from the strain and even those who had believed the size were starting to worry. People were in and out of the house frequently, leaving behind loaves of bread and other products of the harvest. William Cisse thanked them and sent them on their way as quickly as he could, to keep the midwife and her apprentice from getting annoyed by the crowds.

When Mary went into labor, William left the room so the midwife could do her job. The child was delivered successfully- or, the first one at least.

Mary panted as the apprentice cleaned up the small child- much smaller than Mary had been expecting. "I thought my weight would decrease considerably after delivering the child," she said through weak chuckles.

"... you aren't finished, dear," the midwife murmured, looking at Mary from over her stomach.

Mary produced two more children after that, and they each were laid in the same crib. Exhausted, Mary was cleaned up and sent to rest while William watched the babies.

The firstborn was of medium size when compared to the other two. Despite being the 'eldest brother', he was not, in fact, the largest. Hints of brown hair were obvious from the start of his life. His eyes were a gentle, hazy blue that reminded the onlooker of rainy afternoons, and his overall demeanor was calm- he never cried, and rarely called out.

The middle child was much different than the first. The top of his head was lightly dusted yellow, suggesting golden locks of hair in his later years. He was bigger, more burly- something farmer fathers always looked for in sons- and his eyes were an electric green that made them look yellow. He looked at everything with bright and intense curiosity. He, too, did not cry often, but was much more curious than his former.

The youngest carried iconic traits of a youngest child- he cried much and sometimes seemed to seek attention, but his brothers were able to appease him more often than not. The top of his head was tinted slightly with black hair, and his wide, constantly wet eyes were a bright, intense azure. People said that it reminded them of lakes and rivers that belonged to the countryside back in their home villages, before the conversation would turn political after the mention of Britain.

News of Mary's triplets spread quickly, travelling by softly spoken murmurs of curses and malevolent mages. Three sons at once? Unheard of!

But people said it was true, and even non-believers came to acknowledge the hardships the next few years would bring Mary and William.

When they were asked the next morning what they would name the three boys in their arms, they exchanged glances.

"We had been planning on naming the one William, after his father," Mary murmured. "But now we have three to name."

"What if we just named them all William?" The father proposed.

"What?"

"We name them all William, and give them nicknames later on, once they have learned how to respond to us, and we have come up with names for them."

Being the father of the house, this was agreed upon, and all three sons were named William.

The first child was named Liam, the second Bill, and the youngest Will. Eventually, they'd drop the 'William' in their name altogether.

But that's later.

Much, much later.


	2. Chapter 2

The first several months of infancy passed without much of a problem. Mary spent much of her time with the children, caring for them and making sure none of them hurt themselves. Occasionally, some of her friends would come over, or others in the village who had also bore children and knew much more about the process than she did.

By seven months, Bill was walking, and this raised confusion. "My boy wasn't walking until well after she was a year old," Muriel had said. Mary, Muriel, and Sarah had been sitting in the common room when this had happened, and while Mary was overjoyed, Muriel was concerned.

"Maybe Johnny was a late bloomer," Mary responded, picking Bill up from where he had fallen to the floor. "What about yours, Sarah? When was Jill walking?"

"Jill was walking when she was nine months."

"A baby walking at seven months is unheard of, dear," Muriel said with a foreboding tone to her voice.

"Bill must just be special." Mary smiled down at the baby boy in her arms. He stared up at her with wide, blank eyes and her smile faded slightly as she set him back down with his brothers.

"What's wrong, Mary?" Sarah asked as Mary returned to her seat.

She sighed, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. "Even if the walking is out of the ordinary, there are other things about Bill that worry me."

"Everything will worry you for the first few years." Muriel sipped her tea. "It shouldn't keep you up at night."

"Oh, but it does!" Mary protested. "Have you ever noticed the way he stares at everything? His eyes seem… dead."

Sarah and Muriel cast Bill a glance. He was lying back on the blanket set up a few feet away, beside where Liam and Will were laying on their stomachs, staring at the three woman upside down. His eyes were impossibly wide, but they were glazed over and glossy, like he wasn't truly inspecting them, or caring about what he saw.

They looked back at Mary, and Muriel seemed to dismissed the idea that this was strange. "He's just distracted, dear. It's normal for babies to seem that way."

Sarah and Mary cast the boy another glance. He hadn't moved, and it almost seemed he hadn't blinked but they couldn't be sure.

"It just feels strange, I suppose. That's all," Mary explained, picking up her tea again.

"I'm sure he'll grow out of it." Sarah looked at Mary sympathetically. "Just like children, babies all have their phases."

Mary nodded. "I suppose you're right. We'll wait and see, then."


	3. Chapter 3

The next oddity was when Will began to speak.

Up to this point, the children had really only made aimless noises- largely vowels and noises made when crying or laughing. Will had become very animated in the past few months as well. Since Bill had begun walking, he'd started leaving Will and Liam alone on the blanket, causing Will to act up and become upset. Next to his brothers, Liam was quite underdeveloped- he still refused to make much noise and was just crawling when Will spoke his first word.

It was a hot night a few weeks after Bill had begun walking. Mary was sitting in her chair near the empty fireplace, mending a pair of William's pants. Liam was asleep on the blanket. Bill was seated beside him, trying to stack a wooden block onto a pile he'd been gathering. Will was laying on his stomach, trying to knock the tower over and seeming to frustrate Bill a bit every time he succeeded, as Bill would wave the blocks around before going back to his stacking.

Will looked up when William came into the room. He had just finished up his work outside with the crops and was coming in for the night. He kicked his muddy boots off by the door and sat down in his rocking chair across from Mary.

"Good evening, dear," Mary said quietly, staying hushed while Liam slept. "How are the crops doing?"

"The corn and wheat have started sprouting."

"And the pumpkins?"

"I didn't have a chance to check on the pumpkins today. They'll be the first thing I check tomorrow."

"Pu-kin!" Will cried suddenly, causing Liam to jerk awake. Mary and William both looked over at the little child. William leaned down and picked Will up off the blanket, who laughed and waved his arms. "Pu-kin!" He chirped again, looking thoroughly proud of himself.

Mary furrowed her brow, resting her mending on her lap. "Caroline's child isn't even speaking yet and he was born a month before Will."

William shrugged as he bounced Will in his arms. "Is there a problem?"

She sighed. "I suppose not…"

He looked at her. "I think you need to stop worrying about it so much." Will kicked his legs and William set him back down on the blanket. "They just might develop faster than other children do. That's not a bad thing."

Mary bit her lip and said nothing in response to this.


	4. Chapter 4

Years passed, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, compared to what the triplets had been like as babies. Will made lots of noise, constantly seeking attention. He seemed to be quite pleased by Mary's work, and it took a lot of effort to keep him from sewing needles and spools of thread. Bill still seemed detached, staring with glazed eyes at all people who looked at him. They would cradle him, play with him, but he had no reaction- unless someone touched his toys. Liam watched his brothers like a hawk, when he wasn't preoccupied with watching the adults. He wasn't quite like Bill- he laughed and smiled, and cried when he was hungry- but he was more reserved when it came to expressing his emotions.

Mary and William had come over with a few books, which sat in a chest in their room. The chest usually stayed closed, unless guests were over and Mary felt the dire urge to show them something she had kept from her home in Britain. The books were stacked on top, and were always moved to the floor when this happened.

It was late autumn, a few weeks after the boys' fourth birthday, when the chest was opened again and the leatherbound books were scattered across the wooden floor. Liam, finding the main room to be too loud and overwhelming, retreated to the back room in search of some place quiet to gather his thoughts.

He hadn't been expecting to find the books splayed out on the floor, but he was instantly interested by them. They were new, and different, and he was confused as to when they'd shown up in the bedroom. He'd been in and out of here many times, yet he'd never seen these on the floor like this.

He sat down beside the pile and, after trying and failing to lift several of the books, settled on a smaller one. It had a black cover with intricately painted designs along the borders. In the center, embossed into the leather, were the words 'HOLY BIBLE'.

He stared at the words, enraptured by the lettering, before opening the front and looking at the thin pages in intense interest.

Mary sat Liam down on his chair at the table before taking up her place and serving the five of them some bread and peas. Liam stared at his food for a while, musing over the thoughts in his head.

"Liam, dear? Is something bothering you?"

Liam looked up at his mother. "Who is God?"

The question hovered in the air, filling it with tension. Mary and William exchanged glances, and Will looked confused.

"He's an old man in the sky who grants wishes you send through prayers," William answered, causing Mary to smack his arm lightly

"William!" She whispered. "You can't just tell them that!"

"What? They'll learn eventually."

Liam stared at his food now, wide eyed. Will looked confused but thoroughly interested. Bill scoffed and picked up a pea, making a big show of chewing it to mush.

"Why don't we say a prayer?" Mary offered and Liam looked up, looking excited.

"Yes. I wanna do that."

The family said a prayer together, and Liam felt much more at peace with something within himself. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it made him happy for the time being.


	5. Chapter 5

The kids were six when Mary finally decided it was okay for them to go play with some of the other kids in the town. Mary still had concerns, of course. Liam still couldn't seem to handle large crowds and he hated noise. Will didn't open up to new people too well and seemed very reliant on his brothers support in social situations, as proven by his distaste towards strangers in the house. However, Mary was most concerned about Bill. Bill seemed to refuse to show any emotion, unless it was unquenchable rage or sorrow over trivial things. He never seemed happy. Nonetheless, William talked with her about letting the three of them spend a day outside playing with the other kids, and she begrudgingly agreed.

They had been outside plenty, but had been shielded from the other kids. They were usually preoccupied by small tasks around the farm, like shelling peas or feeding scraps of food to the pigs and goats. Will hated the work and always preferred to sit on the porch with Mary and watch her mend William's clothes or sew the boys' new ones.

Mary opened the side gate to the farm in the back to let the boys out towards one of the grassy fields the other kids played in. The other kids recognized the three- everybody knew about the Cisse triplets. It would have taken a lot to not know about them.

There were varying reactions from the kids, which Bill analyzed closely. Some of the older ones- seven or eight years old, he presumed- motioned for them to join them in their circles. Some of the younger ones seemed dismissive, and went to playing with the leather or cloth toys their mothers had made for them. It was easy to pick out the kids who had superstitious parents- at least, it was for Bill. They seemed afraid to look at the three, and even made the conscious decision to move to one of the farther edges of the clearing, or go inside their houses altogether.

He watched them out of the corner of his eye before getting distracted by Will finding sanctuary with a group of girls who had small dolls made out of burlap and straw- 'mini-scarecrows', Will would call them later when he came home. The two elder brothers weren't surprised by this development. Will had always had an infatuation with girlish things, like sewing and dolls.

The corner of Bill's lip quirked upwards in an amused smile and he turned to Liam to make an offhand comment about it, but fell back into an emotionless expression when he saw Liam had also left his side in favor of a group of boys gathered on some rocks. They were all holding books, which is what Bill assumed had lured Liam over to them.

Bill watched Liam socialize for a little bit, before going to sit on a log close to the forest that outlined the edge of the clearing. Instead of choosing to try and blend in with one of the groups, he found it better to watch. He watched the way they interacted and found it interesting- but he refused to partake in the action himself.

Even as an adult, he wasn't sure why.


End file.
